A Day In The Life: Wealthy/Middle-Class

luxurious-bedYou awaken inside golden sunlight splashing across your bed.

An enormous, four-poster, intricately carved mahogany bed draped with gossamer silk.

You stretch languidly beneath your thousand dollar Pratesi sheets, which feel like satin against your skin.

Rolling your head to the side on fat, goose down pillows, you look out into your yard through French terrace doors.

A beautiful, sunny day awaits.

You inhale deeply the scent of blossoming roses, magnolias and fresh fruit wafting up from the trees in your garden, and imagine their succulence. You’ll have Deni, your head gardener, clip some choice blooms and collect a basket of petals for Pita, your live-in housekeeper, to arrange into lovely bouquets and potpourri for the grand foyer, sitting, formal and powder rooms of your mansion.


Your whole estate should smell so sweet!

You yawn widely, and contemplate snuggling back into your soft, feather bed for another hour or so. Running your fingers through your hair, you decide against it.

Your expertly weaved tresses are styling-moose stiff from last night’s charity gala, and your nails are just a touch too formal for the late luncheon and shopping outing you have scheduled with the ladies this afternoon.

Pita!” You summon your housekeeper, who should already be at your side by now with freshly ground coffee, a mango mimosa, a warm croissant and freshly sliced fruit from your trees. Why must you have to call out to her? Where is she?

“Sorry, m’am.” Here she is, your breakfast on a tray.”I thought you might want to sleep in after the party last night. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Sweet. But still.

“Did Janet get the kids off to school on time?” You are beginning to wonder about your children’s new nanny. She seems to lack a sense of promptness.

“Yes, ma’m.”

champagne-breakfastYou prop yourself up on your dozen or so cushy, silk-covered down pillows, and enjoy a leisurely breakfast.

As you sip your fizzy mimosa, you wonder how ‘other’ people can possibly rise at dawn, get children off to school, then schlep themselves to 9-to-5 jobs every morning.

What kind of life must that be?


$ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ *  $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $ * $


You jolt awake, assailed by the blaring clock alarm.


You peel back your funky polyester sheets (no time this week to do laundry), and drag your exhausted body into a sitting position.

God, you’re tired.

You sleepily contemplate moving your bed into the cubicle beside your desk at work because it feels like all you do is work, spend a fatigue-foggy hour or two with your family, sleep for what feels like a few minutes, then back to work again.

MO-OOM! I’m HUN-GREEE!!” Your son’s screeching slams your brain into your skull. You wonder if slipping a sedative into his cereal could be considered self-defense?

On your way into the kitchen, a nasty stench wafts after you. “Is that me?” You panic, trying to remember your last shower. Wait, it was yesterday. You shouldn’t be stinking yet…


Then you see it.

The cat’s litter box, filled with poop.

You’re too tired to yell at your daughter for not cleaning it out, and too tired to do it yourself.

You know it will calcify before your kids do anything about it, but by the time you make your way into the kitchen your brain has filed it in your mental to-do box – which already has files dating as far back as the 1990’s.

“I hope you’re not making bacon,” your daughter greets you in the kitchen. “Remember I don’t eat red meat. Make something healthy for a change, will you?”

“Sure, sweetie!” You grab a bowl, a spoon, and head back toward the cat’s litter box. No jury in the land will convict you.

As you scoop up kitty poo to feed your kid, you wonder what it’s like to be rich…



Which one of these lives do you live?

Can you see living the other?


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12 thoughts on “A Day In The Life: Wealthy/Middle-Class

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  5. Dear God, does either scenario really exist?

    Our household consisted of my husband and I, our two daughters, various and assorted pets, and I headed a wildlife-rehabilitation group and had sometimes 35 critters in rehab, at my home. My husband was in law-enforcement and worked 12 hour shifts, that were sometimes days, sometimes graveyard. I ran an industrial supply house, and both kids were in private schools.

    Our whole family ran on organization (which will SURPRISE you, as you read on), cooperation, and, THANK GOD, my parents lived only 2 blocks away, and could pick up kids, drop off kids, etc.

    My husband pitched in to help around the house, soon as I burned my bra in 1972. He never quit. He still is very responsible. The kids varied, according to age and hormones, but for the most part were cooperative. AND, they were 8 years apart. Big difference.

    Fortunately, everyone was on the same page, (we tried to be honest, and level with our kids concerning their responsibilities in our home) and things-for the most part- went very smoothly.

    Oh- and our 1953 built home had 1 bathroom. Oh boy. In the morning, we would get up in stages; my clock would go off, and I would alert the oldest girl, who-supposedly- would shower and get all her bathroom stuff out of the way, then she would wake up our youngest daughter, etc., then me; my husband would not be there if on graveyard, or would be up first, if on days.

    I found out, when the girls were grown with kids of their own, that the oldest girl would wake up the youngest girl, have her get ready, and be responsible for waking up everyone else.

    The younger girl never missed a day- from being 5 years old- on. I still can’t figure it out. Of course, this is the most responsible of the two kids, always was, always will be.

    It is scary, when I think of the entire household being dependent on a 5-year-old to get everyone up, and at the right time.

    • Absolutely! There are many people in both these scenarios. But your story is quite heartwarming. I can completely relate about having various critters in the house – love this! But one bathroom?? Yikes! I’m pretty sure my family would trample each other to death with one bathroom – no one would survive! However, you paint a picture of a caring family who worked together and took responsibility for each other as well as for themselves. Very sweet!

  6. Wow, this is interesting too. I don’t think I lead either life, but a mix of the two. I’m fortunate enough to be situated smack in the middle of the middle class and I can see both sides of this scenario.

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